Mine
by Englandaru
Summary: Alfred just wanted Arthur to be his. Every part of him. Even the gross bloody parts inside. Was that so wrong? *WARNING: Insane!Alfred and gore. Rated M for, well, gore. First story! :D Flames welcome if necessary. Plz reviw!* Hetalia iz not mine.
1. Chapter 1

Alfred's POV

He's mine. I want all of him. Hugging and kissing is fun, but right now, it's not enough. I want to see what's inside him. Not his "emotions" or "innermost feelings". He's already showed me those. I want to see his physical anatomy. I want every part of him. I want to touch every single part of him and claim it as my own. He let that doctor do it, didn't he? When he had surgery on his stomach, I watched from outside as that stranger cut him open and touched everything. It was unnecessary to touch that much. He let him do it, so why can't I?

"WHAT! You're being unreasonable!" He says. "What is wrong with you!" He says.

Absolutely nothing.

I look over to the bed where he is sitting so innocently, reading his book and drinking his tea. He's so cute when he reads. Yes, undeniably cute, but now's not reading time. It's my time. I get up off my chair and scoot onto the bed crawling up behind him and snatch the book out of his hands. Startled he whips around and stares at me wide eyed. Good. He knows what's coming. I roughly grab his upper arm just as he's about to run, not taking care to watch how much strength I use, and slam him onto the mattress. Immediately he starts to squirm, trying to escape my grasp, but I straddle his waist to keep him down. I scan the room for something convenient to tie him down with, anything will do, he's not that strong. I almost grin when I spot four ties on the nightstand next to our bed. I retrieve the ties and lean over him, tying his wrists to the banisters at the top of the bed, then turn myself around and do the same to his ankles. "Alfred" he asks, voice wavering with what I can only assume to do be fear, "w-what are you doing…" I don't reply. He doesn't need an answer. He's mine and I can do as I please with him. I grab my pocket knife from my back pocket and lift up Arthur's shirt exposing the pale white skin of his abdomen. I examine it momentarily mentally debating on what part of him I should claim first before I finally place the cold blade on the far right corner of his belly where the scar from his operation is still faintly visible. Might as well start there. That mark there is what started my obsession so that's where I'm going to end it. When I'm done and he's been claimed, Arthur will thank me, and we'll both be happy again. I'll be rid of these stupid thoughts and neither of us will have to worry. He'll be mine and mine alone.

With this thought I begin.

" A- Alfred Plea-" His feeble attempt at talking me out of what I'm about to do are changed to a piercing scream as I dig the knife into his skin and drag it, tearing a long gash all the way to the opposite side from where I started. He is open now and suddenly all of the drive that made me want to do this is gone. Tears pour from fearful green orbs as he gasps and cries, yet I don't feel any form of remorse. I feel bored. I watch him wiggle underneath me whimpering in pain and I wonder why I even went along with the idea. What am I supposed to do now? Help him? Apologize? No. I need to complete what I started and at least examine the opening I made. Hero's always finish the job. I reach down and poke the wound glancing up halfheartedly when he screams out in agony. I just don't feel like doing this anymore. My brow furrows and I grip my head as my head spins. What now?


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur's POV

I lay there crying as I stare wide eyed at Alfred. I knew this would happen. Ever since I had that surgery and Alfred passed that comment on how the doctor had been excessive with his "touching", I knew he was going to do something bad.

Alfred stares at the gash in my stomach, his face devoid of the insanity it held only moments before. Is he finished? Now the only emotion I can see in his deep blue eyes is confusion. Poor lad. He looks up at me with an expression I can only describe as that of a lost puppy. The kind of puppy that is so weak and scared from running around for who knows how long that it can only tilt its head and gaze at you through the corner of its eyes as you walk by it on your way to work.

~ooOoo~

Alfred's POV

I tear my eyes away from his tear stained face to the gash in his stomach. It's still bleeding. It's not that deep of a cut. I can tell because when I stick my finger in it, it only goes to about the first knuckle. And yet he is still screaming like it's the end of the world. He's definitely over reacting. He never acted like this with that doctor. I pull my finger out and glare at him. He sniffles and whimpers and stares back at me, his whole body trembling. I'm vaguely aware of the fact that he must think I'm crazy. The way he keeps look at me and struggling weakly against the ties, he wants to get away from me. That won't do. He has to stay with me, and it has to be because he wants to. I scoot myself back onto his lap and lie down over him, kissing his cheek to try and soothe him some. He sniffles some more and stares at me with an unreadable look in his gorgeous green eyes before he blinks and more tears stream down his face. I put my hands on either side of his face and gently wipe away the newly formed tears, earning a whimper of pain from Arthur and finish of my caring act by kissing each eyelid and smiling halfheartedly at him.

~ooOoo~

Arthur's POV

Alfred reaches above my head and cuts the rope that is binding my hand to the headboard with his now bloody knife and catches my arm once it's released so it doesn't slam into the tiny table next to the bed, laying it across my chest. After repeating this oddly caring action with my other hand and removing the rope that was still tightly secured around my wrist he scoots off me and walks into the bathroom without a single word. Immediately I begin to sit up to untie my feet but I'm stopped short by the pain and drop back onto the bed with a loud scream. My eyes shoot to the bathroom where Alfred had gone to, afraid that he would come back and hurt me again for trying to escape, but he never comes out. His suddenly normal behavior is scaring me terribly but I have no choice but to wait for him to come back and hope that he plans on helping me. I can feel my mind slipping as I try and put myself on his level. Why did he do this? What possessed him to want to do this to me? That's it. Possessiveness. I'm his and no one else's and he can do as he pleases with me because I love him and he loves me. That's where his mind is at. Suddenly I don't regret taking that psychology course. So I'm going to have to play along. It's not a lie anyway. Of course I love Alfred, and I am his. I don't mind his overprotective ways or his slightly creepy methods of taking care of me. So what if he likes to choose what I eat and what I wear and where I go. It's just how he shows his love right? Oh God…

I'm in trouble.

~ooOoo~

Alfred's POV

I rummage through the cabinets taking my time to gather all of the supplies I need to take care of Arthur. Now that I took care of that obsessive urge to cut him open that I had since "that day", I feel like taking care of him like I do when he cuts himself when trying to cook one of his disgustingly unhealthy meals. He's too good to eat so unhealthily. I can, but he needs to watch his health and yet he still insists on eating like a college student. I stop for a moment and click my tongue at the thought of Arthurs eating habits. Oh well. Since he doesn't take care of himself the way he should, I'll just keep doing it for him. I turn my head and stare at the door for a moment when I hear a pained scream from Arthur in the other room. He must have tried to get up. Silly boy. In the back of my mind I know that I should be rushing to help him, but for some reason I'm acting as if it's me that is lying on the bed with my stomach cut open. If Arthur had done this to himself, I would have grabbed him immediately and carried him bridal style like the hero I am and run him to the nearest hospital, whereas if I had done this to _myself_ I would have lazily taken my time and bandaged myself up whenever I got around to it. I know I should be rushing. Time is of the essence when your beautiful boyfriend is lying in bed bleeding his little heart out, but I just can't do it. But Arthur was mine right? So he can wait, because I did this to him and not anyone else. It's okay because it was me.

I finally walk out of the bathroom, supplies in hand and I plaster a smile on my face as I hurriedly drop the things onto the bed and untie his feet, catching his ankles so they don't hit the foot board. We wouldn't want any bruises on those pretty little feet now would we? I'm taking care of him now, so I'm going to avoid hurting him any further.

~ooOoo~

Arthur's POV

Alfred drags a chair to the side of the bed where I'm still laying, too weak to move and leans over me placing a chaste kiss on my lips, then begins gently tending to my wounds. As I watch Alfred dab away at the blood with a towel through blurry eyes, I begin to realize that with the more blood I loose, the more my mind is slipping. But I can't find it in me to care. My sweet, handsome, loving boyfriend lightly raises up my hips and wraps the bandage tightly around the area he had cut into before. He's so wonderful to me. What am I thinking? When Alfred finishes fixing me up he sits me up and pulls me into his lap, stroking my hair comfortingly. I look up at his face and see the same forced smile is spread across his lips. I sigh and place my head in the crook of his neck and place a kiss to his shoulder. He hums happily in content and gives my body a little squeeze sending waves of pain through me. But it's okay, because it's him. He doesn't mean it when he abuses me, just like I don't mean it when I abuse myself. Bad eating habits and cutting my fingers are just accidents. Silly little accidents made by silly old me. I'm not doing it on purpose and he doesn't mean anything by the things he does to me. I know because he's told me so. And it's true because it's him and he always insists that it is. So it's definitely true. No doubts.

Right?


End file.
